


Teacher

by therisingharvestmoon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-30
Updated: 2015-04-30
Packaged: 2018-03-26 11:01:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3848509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therisingharvestmoon/pseuds/therisingharvestmoon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A different side of the Head of Slytherin. Oneshot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teacher

His hatred for Dolores Umbridge was only matched by his loathing of Potter, which, since the summer, had been pulled into sharp focus by his meetings with the Dark Lord. But the pain and humiliation he endured for the brat could be masked quite easily, or else his qualms removed in a single, silvery thread of memory.

From the moment she arrived, she grated against his nerves in every possible way. He hated her, from the fluffy pink jacket, her name, her flabby skin, her frog-like mouth, her stubby wand, he hated her. Her pale, plain grotesqueness was only amplified by her biting comments of Dumbledore's choice of teacher, and out-and-out denial of the Dark Lord's return. His teeth ground together with every inquest into teacher's personal lives, and the audacity to interrupt the Headmaster's speech with her shrill giggle…

Umbridge was truly a living specimen of blood status meaning nothing when it came to quality. He thought of her pale grey pure blood eyes in comparison to the vivid green of a Muggle-born he used to know, and her slender, freckled fingers that held the pages of his Potion's book open…

The comparison was as disgustingly unfair as judging an eleven-year-old on his or her merits and henceforth for the rest of their life, so he was quick to put it out of his mind, though he would admit his lost friend was the reason for his quest. He had come to care for his students, in a way, but Albus' ideas he and Potter being 'close' was ridiculous… A smile crept up onto his face. Occumency lessons! He had his own sob story; he really did not care to relive Potter's. What a travesty!

Minerva noticed his change of expression and sidled over to him next to the staff room fire. He was leaning against the back of the plush armchair where Flitwick sat dozing, and she simply stood with her arms clasped behind her back, examining the dusty artefacts on the hearth.

'Enjoying the speech, Severus?' she whispered, her mouth turning up at the corners.

Truth be told, he hadn't been paying the slightest bit of attention to Dolores' speech at all. He looked up to see her rattling on, her rings flashing as she gestured with her flabby hands grasping the air.

'What's she come up with now?' He whispered back, 'capital punishment for first years carrying frog spawn in their pockets?'

Minerva snorted dryly.

'Oh, she's already managed to find a way to exercise those statistic tendencies, though, Severus.' Her mouth was a thin line. 'Potter'. She elaborated.

He felt a brief flutter of concern for Lily's son. At the sound of the name, Umbridge looked up so quickly that Severus was surprised she didn't break her neck.

'Can I help you two with something?'

He didn't like the way she grouped them as 'you two', like a couple of young offenders in her class. Neither did Minerva. Umbridge's glassy eyes stared, awaiting a challenge.

'No thankyou, Dolores, we're fine,' Minerva replied crisply.

Severus waited for Umbridge to continue with her tedious explanations and glorifications before showing Minerva his sardonic smile. He was quite astonished and deeply impressed with her impatience with Dolores Umbridge, Potter's Head of House or not.

He cleared his throat. 'So how did she manage that?'

A Dark look crossed the Transfiguration mistress' face, and she nudged him aside so she could grasp the back of the chair herself. 'An enchanted quill; they write lines which appeared on the flesh on the back of their hands. Potter's hidden his – thinks it will worry… certain people.' Black, then, Severus thought. 'But I had two second year girls come in crying two nights ago. I went straight to Albus, of course, but there is nothing he can do.'

Umbridge snapped her head up again and they both froze, but this time it was to glare at Flitwick, who had begun snoring softly. Severus leant forward, prodding the small professor on the shoulder. He woke with a rather violent snore, and Umbridge carried on for a good forty minutes more.

Severus and Minerva exchange a dark look when she went to conduct her nightly detentions, and they agreed to discuss the issue as soon as the door clicked shut.

'She's evil,' Pomona Sprout huffed as Flitwick conjured more chairs to sit near the fire. There was a murmur of agreement from the teachers around them.

'You do know why she has so many detentions?' Minerva huffed and sat down.

'Despite being unnecessarily sadistic?' Severus offered, delicately lowering himself into an armchair.

She smiled grimly. 'She needs to get back to her office because she knows how much we hate her, and she'd have to sit here surrounded by people who think she's a vile old toad.' Her cheeks were tinged red.

'Hear, hear,' a rather disgruntled and sleepy looking Flitwick cried.

Severus' lip curled, though he held up his hands to prevent a torrent of abuse for Umbridge.

'Though I'm sure we would all like to uh, discuss the many failings and personal flaws of the high inquisitor, I must say we should turn out thoughts to a solution to her favour of unsavoury punishments.' Though it may have been the pot calling the kettle black, Severus hated any sort of violence.

'That's putting it mildly,' Minerva quipped.

He gave her another one of his sardonic smiles, which Minerva took to be friendly coming from him.

'Yes, but we also need to remain calm.'

Good teachers as Filius Flitwick and Pomona Sprout were, they had not worked with Dumbledore and Minerva; did not share the teasing sort of friendship they had. They looked a bit uncomfortable, and Flitwick cleared his throat.

'Not to be intentionally bias, Severus, but how many Slytherins have been put on detention by Dolores?'

Though there was no malice in his voice, all three of them stared at him expectantly now. He sighed.

'I suppose I could have expected this question, my previous employment considered, along with Slytherins reputation. Perhaps this judgement is far, for many a Slytherin has been tied to dark forces throughout our history and today.' His dark eyes glistened, and they were still. 'However, I also have eleven and twelve year olds in my charge, and perhaps these judgements or rather, expectations, is partly to blame for the stigma. Maybe I'm wrong, but if a leopard cannot change its spots, perhaps a cub can choose whether or not it wants to be a leopard before it gets them. I am to be understood?'

He also kept his tone civil. They look surprised and somewhat abashed. Minerva gave him an encouraging smile. Well, he wasn't all dark, no matter why he changed.

Before they could continue, there was a knock at the door. Severus, who was the furtherist away from the fire, stood to answer it. He opened it a crack, then swung it open.

A tiny, dark- haired Slytherin girl stepped in upon Severus' gesture, her bloody hand wrapped in her green and silver tie. Severus turned his own chair away from the other teachers for her to sit in.

'I'm sorry sir,' she squeaked in her tiny voice. Her feet didn't even touch the ground.

'Do not apologize, Linley, let me see your hand.'

She held her arm out feebly and he took her little hand gently in his long, spidery fingers.

'I see.' He spoke softly, but not in a dangerous tone. 'And this was not from home this time, I take it? Professor Umbridge put you on detention?'

She nodded, surprised and relieved to see that he already knew and would believe her. He unwrapped the tie, and began healing the wounds with his wand.

'I know Professor Umbridge likes the message to "sink in", Linley, but if you are given detention again, you will come to me.'

She nodded furiously.

He cleaned her tie with a flick of his wand, and hand it to her. 'Put this on, then go to Madam Pomfrey for a pick-me-up draught.' He looked up to see Hagrid near the large table in the middle of the room, placing what appeared to be a broken candlestick hastily under one of the chairs sitting there. For some reason, Hagrid seemed to like Severus, and he was quite all right with that.

'Hagrid?' He called. 'Could you take Miss White up to the hospital wing?' See that she gets there all right?'

He smiled, glad to help a student. 'No problem, professor. C'mon, now,' his pat on the shoulder was so heavy she fell, sprawling and embarrassed onto the wooden floor.

'Ooh! Sorry!'

Severus smiled. 'Make sure you don't so her any more damage, Hagrid.'

He turned. They were all staring at him. He cleared his throat.

'Right… Where were we?'


End file.
